How bizarre is life
The woman, the wife
The bored young spouse
in her great big house
Apathy and vanity
Murdering her sanity
With her paid-for breasts
Every day is a test
Lovingly adhored
By a man she abhors
The meaningless life
The bored young wife
Kids that she hates
Wrought iron gates
Live in the lines
Of school turnout times
Never quite free
To get up and flee
And so then she's grey
Her looks fade away
Once the nestlings have flown
Her impatience grown
Does she slip from his grasp
To freedom at last
By
carey lenehan
(About carey lenehan)
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